TOWN OF TEXAS - The first time Dale Lindwall saw the car, it was sitting atop a rock pile on a farm east of Merrill. He thought, "I can do something with this."

It was 2013, and he was looking at a four-door, six-cylinder 1948 P15 Plymouth Deluxe sedan. All of the windows were gone. Time and weather had worn away the paint, leaving patches of nearly bare metal on the doors, fenders, hood and trunk. The upholstery was ragged and rotting. Gunshots left a hole in the trunk and rear driver's side fender. Rust had eaten away most of the floor.

Dale was in rough shape, too. A combat veteran of the Vietnam War, he suffered from symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, including panic attacks, depression and memory failures.

Restoring the car would give him something to concentrate and work on. Take his thoughts off the past. Reset his mind, body and spirit.

It worked. Over the next three years, Dale, 69, of the Marathon County town of Texas, meticulously resurrected that old car. He would go on to raffle off the car in August, with proceeds going to the Never Forgotten Honor Flight. The Plymouth would raise nearly $45,000 to help 90 veterans travel free to Washington, D.C., to see war memorials that were installed in their honor.

Dale poured himself into the Plymouth. It became more than pieces of metal put together.

He and others would be dumbfounded by striking bits of serendipity concerning the old sedan — goose-bump coincidences and experiences so powerful that Dale came to believe the car has a spirit of its own.

"I look at that old car as a friend who helped me," Dale said. "I felt I had spiritual guidance here. I believe divine intervention was working through this car."

The car that carried a family

The first time Bernie Frick saw the Plymouth was in 1950 or '51.

Frick is a 79-year-old retired farmer from the Lincoln County town of Schley. But at that time, he was 11 or 12, and he remembers standing near his family's two-bedroom home when his father, Bernhardt Frick Sr., drove the car into the driveway.

His dad bought the secondhand car from a dealer; no one today knows who the first owner was.

Bernhardt Frick was in his mid-30s, and his health was suffering. He had disabling allergies, so severe that he and his wife, Marvel, had decided that his health might improve if the family moved west to Colorado.

Bernhardt and Marvel sold the cattle and other animals from their dairy farm to buy the '48 Plymouth to move with their three children across the country. (They would go on to have three more children.)

"That was the reason for that car," Bernie said.

The car wasn't new, but it was an incredible luxury for the family. "There was no plush money," said another of the couple's sons, Dan Frick, 76, of Merrill. "Everything was hand to mouth."

Bernie, Dan and their younger sister, Nancy Schmidt, now 72 and living in Shawano, piled in the back seat of the Plymouth, with their parents in front. They don't remember many of the details about the trip, but they do recall that the lights on the sedan went out a few times because the electrical circuit's fuse blew as the family drove across South Dakota.

Finally, after burning through fuses, Bernhardt used a foil wrapper from a piece of chewing gum to complete the circuit. When Dale was rewiring the vehicle more than 60 years later, he found that wrapper.

When they got to Colorado, the Fricks discovered that the environment was worse for Bernhardt's allergies than in Wisconsin. "He was really allergic to sagebrush," Dan said.

Bernhardt and Marvel returned to their farm east of Merrill, bought more cattle and livestock, and started over.

Brothers Bernie, Larry and Dan Frick and sister Nancy Schmidt, shown in the farm house where they spent much of their childhood. The 1948 Plymouth played a key role in their growing up.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

The car remained important for the entire family. Marvel worked at a glove factory in Merrill, and she drove the car back and forth to her job. "Dad would say that the (Plymouth) was the newest car in the parking lot when they first got it," Dan said, "and then it became the oldest car in the parking lot."

Everyone used the Plymouth, which is the size of a modern-day SUV, to help with farm chores, such as pulling wagons across fields or taking raw oats to a refinery. Bernhardt even got a part-time job as a bus driver and used the Plymouth to take rural kids to school, Dan said.

But by 1963, the car had seen better days. It wasn't worth much, so the family decided not to sell it. Another brother, Larry, who at 11 years old had been driving the car around the fields, drove it up on the rocks and left it there.

Larry is 66 now. He would be the last person to drive it for more than 50 years.

A war comes back to haunt

Dale Lindwall grew up in the small Northwoods town of Spirit, just west of Tomahawk, and graduated from Prentice High School in 1967.

His father, who died when Dale was young, wanted his son to attend college, so Dale enrolled at the University of Wisconsin-Marathon County. But Dale wasn't a college, sit-down-and-study kind of guy. He dropped out of UWMC and took on a sheet metal apprenticeship through North Central Technical Institute in Wausau, now Northcentral Technical College.

He was gaining traction in the program when he was drafted into the U.S. Army in May 1969.

In the middle of 1970, Dale was sent to Vietnam, where he spent the next year as a team leader in the 9th Infantry Division and a weapons trainer with the 101st Air Mobile Division.

When he got home, all Dale wanted to do was forget the war and get on with his life. So he did. He got married to Marie, and they had three children, two sons and a daughter. For years he owned Stainless Specialists, a custom metal fabrication company, and then Comfort Gallery, a heating, cooling and hearth products company.

He was always busy, and even though the PTSD affected him, he mostly shrugged off the illness and went on.

Things changed when he was retired.

Little things could set him off. Dale would be walking on the wooded property his home sits on east of Brokaw, and he'd occasionally hear gunfire from a shooting range not far away. Dale knew what it was, but he couldn't help but respond like the combat soldier he was. He'd end up crawling back to his house, ducking from tree to tree, heart racing and his entire nervous system aflame.

He once cut his hand helping his son Paul in the Comfort Gallery shop — Paul took over the business when Dale retired — and the sight of his own blood unleashed panic so intense his mind basically shut down.

"The average human being should not be involved in (war)," Dale said. "Nobody can understand what it's like unless they've been there."

It was Paul's idea to go look at the Plymouth. Paul knows Bernie Frick's son, and he knew about the car and what it could do for his father. They went out to retrieve the car together.

Bernie Frick still lives on the family farm where he and his siblings grew up. The car meant something to Bernie, but he had no plans for it. He wasn't sure Dale could restore the old wreck, but he liked the idea of someone caring for the vehicle and trying. So he gave the car to Dale.

'Like the sun coming out after a cloudy day'

Dale is a car guy and has two other collectible vehicles, a 1973 Ford Bronco that he customized, and a pristine 1965 Ford Mustang. They're stored in Dale's large shop that's nestled in the woods on his property.

It's an incredibly tidy place, with metal working equipment and tools placed just the way Dale likes. That's where he worked on the Plymouth.

He custom ordered the glass parts, which had long ago been shattered. He had the engine rebuilt. He bought new upholstery designed specifically for the car.

But Dale did most of the work himself, along with help from friends from the Wisconsin Road Knights Car Club, to which he and Marie belong. He put signal lights on the car; they weren't standard in 1948. He put disc brakes in the front, to make it safer on the road. He puttered and messed around with the details of the sedan.

There would be times, outside the garage, when he'd feel the stress and depression clamping down on his chest, tightening his face. When that happened, he'd walk up to the shop, turn on some oldies on the radio, and sit down on a bench. He'd look at the car and just think.

"I'd start regrouping and clearing my mind. And then I would work on my car," Dale said. "My wife would say I looked like a different man when I'd come back to the house. ... It would be like the sun coming out after a cloudy day."

Dale knows the car didn't cure his PTSD. He still sees a counselor and takes medications to deal with the stress and depression. He still has difficult days. But the car made a difference, helped him in ways that he cannot even explain.

There were times, he said, he could feel God working through the car.

"I would run into a dead end, where I didn't know what to do," Dale said. "And the answer would just come to me."

The car had been an integral part of the childhoods of these siblings, brothers Bernie, Larry and Dan Frick, and Nancy Schmidt. Their father bought the car in 1950 or so to take the family to Colorado.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

Bernie Frick gave the car to Dale Lindwall in 2013. Dale, a Vietnam War combat veteran, decided to restore the vehicle to help him deal with symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, including panic attacks, depression and memory lapses.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

The '48 Plymouth needed a lot of work, but Dale is a metal fabricator and has restored vehicles in the past. He found refuge by working the old sedan. Working on the car, he said, was like "the sun coming out on a cloudy day."(Photo: Courtesy of Dale Lindwall)

Dale did not repaint the car. He wanted it to retain it's patina and weathered exterior, so he protected it with a clear coating. "She's a survivor, and I wanted her to look like it," Dale said.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

The vehicle was won by Randy Wendt (right) of Minocqua. He owned a '48 Plymouth when he was a teenager. But he didn't need the car today; he needed a more reliable, everyday driver.(Photo: Courtesy of Dale Lindwall)

All told, the car raised nearly $45,000 for the Never Forgotten Honor Flight, enough to send about 90 veterans to Washington D.C. to see the war memorials created in their honor.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

Tim Dupee, 47, (behind the wheel) owns the car dealership Midtown Motors in Marshfield. He fell in love with the Plymouth when he saw it a car show. He offered to buy the car from Wendt.
(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

Randy Wendt was able to buy a hybrid Pacifica minivan. He's an environmentalist and loves the car. He owned it for months before he had to purchase gasoline for it.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

Tim Dupee plans to keep the car, and eventually make sure the vehicle is preserved at a museum or other facility. Meanwhile, he takes the Plymouth to car shows. It won an award recently, and he gave the trophy to Dale Lindwall. "You did it," Tim told Dale. He said Dale can come drive the car anytime he wants.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

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A car, and veterans, never forgotten

As much as he loved the car, Dale didn't quite know what to do with it after he finished the restoration. He had the other two collector vehicles, and keeping it just didn't make sense to him. Marie suggested that they should raffle off the Plymouth and use the proceeds to help other veterans. She asked: What about the Never Forgotten Honor Flight? That was it; it just felt right.

Dale approached Honor Flight leaders, and they helped him with the details of starting the raffle. The Road Knights agreed to sponsor the giveaway.

Dale met with some leaders of the Eagles Club in Wausau to ask them for help and to host a party at which the raffle drawing to announce the winner could occur. The group thought that Aug. 24, 2018, would be a good date.

A couple months later, Dale was doing some research with the historical office of Chrysler when he found that the day the car rolled off the factory floor was Aug. 24, 1948. That was 70 years to the day prior to the planned raffle giveaway.

Dale was floored. "I mean, you can't make this up," he said.

Tim Dupee, sitting behind the wheel, and Dale Lindwall talk about the special feeling they get from the 1948 Plymouth. Lindwall restored the sedan; Dupee now owns it.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

'This car's a survivor'

Tim Dupee first saw the 1948 Plymouth at one of the car shows that Dale and Marie attended. He immediately was drawn to the car.

Dale chose not to restore the paint, but rather to put a clear coat over the old paint to maintain the patina of age and use.

"This car's a survivor," Dale said. "And I wanted it to look like it."

Tim, a car collector and the owner of the used-car business Midtown Motors in Marshfield (moving soon to Arpin), has shiny new vehicles. But he loves older ones that show their age and character.

Tim loved the car even more after Dale started talking about it and explained the details of the restoration. Dale talked about the raffle and the cause. Tim bought a bunch of tickets and told Dale that if he didn't win the car, he would be willing to buy it from the person who did.

Tim left a foam sleeve can cooler in the car's glove compartment with his business listing and phone number. Just in case.

"I never win anything," said Randy Wendt, Minocqua. But he won, and sold, the 1948 Plymouth, which allowed him to purchase new Chrysler Pacifica hybrid minivan.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

'I never win anything'

Randy Wendt first saw the '48 Plymouth at Brickner's Park City Dodge dealership in Merrill where the car was displayed to drum up interest in the raffle.

Randy, a retired teacher and school counselor who lives in Minocqua, was looking for a new vehicle to replace his old minivan that had around 200,000 miles on it.

He was drawn to the old sedan because when he was in high school and living in Owen, he owned a 1948 Plymouth. He's 70 now.

"It was a neat car," Randy said about the one he owned. "I liked it. It had a lot of room in it. Stick shift. It was easy to fix. I think I paid $75 for it, and sold it for $75."

Randy also was attracted to the Honor Flight cause. His brother was a Navy pilot during the Vietnam War and was killed in a training crash.

But he did win, and at first he was elated. He thought it would be like going back in time, to that car he drove in high school.

Then he thought about it some more. He realized that the Plymouth wasn't really practical; he needed a daily runner. He also was hoping that he could get a new car that was a hybrid with good gas mileage.

"I'm very concerned about the environment and global warming," Randy said.

Dale and Marie delivered the car to Randy's home in Minocqua. They could see that Randy was beginning to have his doubts about keeping the car. Dale told him about Tim's cooler in the glove compartment.

Randy called Tim, and the two came to an agreement about a purchase price for the vehicle.

The money that Tim paid Randy allowed Randy to buy the hybrid van he wanted.

"It's just been a win-win-win," Randy said.

Dale Lindwall (right) chokes up after Tim Dupee gives him a trophy the 1948 Plymouth won at a car show. "You did this," Tim said, as he handed the award to Dale.(Photo: Keith Uhlig/USA TODAY NETWORK-Wisconsin)

A sign from above

After Tim made the deal with Randy, he called Dale to invite him along when he took his flatbed truck to Minocqua to haul back the '48 Plymouth.

Just after the two drove away from Randy's home and turned south onto U.S. 51 for the trip back, a bald eagle dove along the highway and soared straight at the cab of the truck.

"You could look right into his eyes," Dale said. "I've never seen anything like it. ... Tim turned to me and said, 'Anybody who doesn't believe in a higher power hasn't experienced what we just have.'"

Tim told Dale that his grandfather was a big part of Tim's life when he was growing up, getting him interested in cars and the car business. He believes that eagle was a sign from his grandfather.

Tim spoke about a photo he had of his grandfather, standing in front of an old car. He would dig it out and look at it again when he got home, Tim told Dale.

When he did, Tim called Dale and told him about the photo. His grandfather was standing in front of a 1948 Plymouth.